200. Spring of Zhonghua
Things unfolded more or less as expected. The UN expressed concern over the current situation, but that was it. And that concern wasn't directed solely at Korea—it went to the Zhonghua Twenty States too. In other words, a message to both sides to exercise restraint.
Either way, the Zhonghua Twenty States were at a disadvantage in terms of justification. The war crimes they'd committed were still fresh in people's minds, and this was 2077—an era where information had fully blossomed. Everything they'd done was recorded digitally, and anyone who did a little digging could uncover their atrocities.
In that context, screaming "One China" was bound to provoke a reaction. No international organization would back the Zhonghua Twenty States now—at least not any with influence in Asia.
But then, out of nowhere, interference came from an unexpected quarter: the Deutsche Democratic Republic and Communist Berlin, both named in Korea's statement. They didn't comment on the full text, but they strongly criticized being labeled as war criminal nations from World Wars I and II, and the portrayal of their unification aspirations as a regression to Nazi rule.
The alliances they belonged to chimed in lightly too. It was surprising to see the EU (European Union of Democratic States)—affiliated with the Deutsche Democratic Republic—and DEU (Democratic European Union), tied to Communist Berlin, move in unison.
"What a mess, but it's turning into a weird kind of mess."
An unforeseen intervention. Sure, the wording was strong, but did it warrant international bodies in Europe getting involved? And let's face it—whether EU or DEU, their member states were victims of Nazi Germany. Had time dulled the scars that much?
"No clue how this'll play out."
I'd figured the Goryeo Group would just beat down the Zhonghua Twenty States, but Germany had muddied the waters, making it harder to predict. Not that I had to do anything specific about it.
I'd shifted my assets to safe havens in case things escalated, but Mu-yeol Finance was already handling that. I just needed to keep doing what I was doing.
Monday morning brought Korea's second statement. This time, it slammed not just the Zhonghua Twenty States but Germany too—along the lines of "meddle in others' business and you'll get burned."
For a second, I wondered if this was the prelude to World War IV, but thankfully, it stayed at the level of verbal sparring. Kim Eun-ji said it wasn't that serious.
- "No need to worry about Europe, sir. It's just like a typical WWE match. They're rallying their alliance over there, and we're solidifying Asia over here."
"What the...?"
- "What you should really watch is Zhonghua. They haven't issued any real follow-up yet. That's the unpredictable part."
"Fair point."
Germany's entry was random, but they were in Europe—thousands of miles from Asia, split in half with the two Germanys as the pivot. They were too busy infighting to do much. Sure, EU and DEU aligned now, but infighting would erupt soon enough. They were just butthurt over "Why talk shit about us?"
From the Korean government's view, they couldn't back down while reining in Zhonghua, so they hit back hard.
"Got it."
I ended the call with Kim Eun-ji. I considered asking about Namdong Industrial Complex support progress, but it'd only been a few days since last time, so I let it slide. No need to push too hard.
After that, I monitored the China situation through my secretaries. The Zhonghua Twenty States, suddenly turned beggars, were under the spotlight: would they submit and negotiate, or double down? Everyone was watching.
"That Li Wei guy?"
"The Shanghai Premier, sir?"
"Yeah. What balls does he have to start this shit?"
"Who knows. Maybe he's dreaming big—channeling the people's pent-up rage to crown himself the new emperor or something."
"Hm."
"And he probably anticipated Korea's government and Goryeo Group reacting strongly."
"So he's got a follow-up plan?"
"Yes."
Of course. No one starts something without thinking ahead. He couldn't be that stupid.
The Zhonghua Twenty States' response came that evening. At the ongoing Zhonghua Summit, Shanghai Economic Alliance Premier Li Wei urged total mobilization of the Zhonghua people and declared Shanghai could pay no more reparations. They'd already repaid multiples of the amount set fifty years ago, and they firmly rejected further financial bullying.
On the surface, this was bigger than "One China"—a massive economic blow. Watching the live broadcast, his voice boomed with bravado.
"This guy's begging for a big one."
Since they wouldn't listen, whatever Go Min-ji mentioned was due to drop on Shanghai's offshore waters. Whether it was Jumo's mysterious arrow-like weapon or just Shanghai's own satellites...
"The rest of the Zhonghua Twenty States are declaring too. Going all-in, huh."
The goose's belly was slit. No more golden eggs. Now it was either butcher the remaining goose for meat or stitch it up and force another golden egg. One or the other.
December 22, 2076, Tuesday. With Christmas right around the corner, the morning news was chaotic.
Japan, which had been watching, strongly condemned the Zhonghua Twenty States' moves. Calling them the chief threats to Asian order and the world economy, Japan demanded they reflect on all Third World War damages—especially atoning and paying reparations to Second Tokyo if they truly wanted "One China."
Second Tokyo was the predecessor to Japan's current capital, Third Tokyo—basically old Tokyo. During the Third World War, Japan suffered the Nanakai Trough Megaquake, Mt. Fuji eruption, and Tokyo direct quake in sequence—a ridiculous string of disasters that nearly destroyed them. China delivered the final blow: massive airstrikes on half-submerged Tokyo, which Japan had barely rebuilt with key functions restored (hence "Second Tokyo"), causing huge casualties and destruction.
Tokyo's full rebuild came after Korea intervened, sweeping North Korea and China. That's Third Tokyo today. History's endless, but simply: Japan was a major Third War victim, so they freaked at China's words.
Starting with Japan, Asian nations piled on condemning the Zhonghua Twenty States. Defying Asian hegemon Korea wasn't enough—they'd wrecked the global order and now screamed "One China" again. Obvious reaction.
And then... late Tuesday night into Wednesday, breaking news hit every portal and video site.
A Shanghai Economic Alliance satellite in Earth orbit malfunctioned, leaving its trajectory. That alone would've been a blip, but it collided with a Militaris military satellite and exploded.
Perfectly timed, an undisclosed missile—guided by that military satellite—splashed down near Shanghai's coast, offshore, detonating massively. Even in the ocean, it flash-evaporated surroundings in a white blink. Shanghai residents said it felt like the sun suddenly rose midday.
Militaris claimed: "It was meant for Dalian offshore, but the military satellite's malfunction sent it to Shanghai waters." They blamed the Shanghai satellite for destroying theirs and disrupting the test.
Shanghai, naturally, lost it. Something nuclear-level exploded off their coast—who wouldn't?
"No brakes at all."
I knew the gist. Go Min-ji had warned something would drop on Shanghai waters. Militaris pulled some stunt, obviously.
And everyone—from Shanghai and the Zhonghua Twenty States to global watchers—knew this was Goryeo Group's warning.
The Korean government could issue statements as a nation, but Goryeo Group was "just" a company on the surface. Corporations don't opine on foreign politics—it looks off. So this was their message:
"Push further, and you're fucked."